


xoxo, gossip king (of the ñoldor)

by theoreticlove



Series: love; how it tangles [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: All Of The OCs Except Weo Are Background Characters I Promise, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gossip, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 12:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30106152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreticlove/pseuds/theoreticlove
Summary: in valinor, news can travel like wildfire. especially when the illustrious house of finwë is involved.or; fëanor is newly engaged, and finrod is a gossip
Relationships: Amarië/Edrahil/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Background Celegorm | Turkafinwë/Oromë, Fëanor | Curufinwë & Sons of Fëanor, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel/Original Male Character(s), Fëanor | Curufinwë/Original Male Character(s), Nerdanel/Original Male Character(s)
Series: love; how it tangles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215347
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	xoxo, gossip king (of the ñoldor)

**Author's Note:**

> hey! long time no see. if you’ve read my fic _don’t go sharing your devotion (lay all your love on me)_ you’ll notice one of the main OC characters is weo! i wouldn’t want to confuse you, so here’s an explanation:
> 
> this fic is an AU of that fic, where fëanor actually doesn’t show up to nerdanel and weo’s marriage, so they go through with the wedding and have a kid! exciting! and then fëanor comes back and he and weo fall in loooooove. enjoy!

Fëanáro was, as he always tended to be, busy. How could he not be? Always he needed something to occupy his hands and mind, something to do, a skill to master. Today, however, as he cooked the meal that would be served to his family (including his sons and their families, who were coming all this way to visit him… oh! no wonder Weo had invited them over- it must have been part of his plan) his mind drifted away, even as he nearly burnt the potatoes and almost cut his fingers off as he chopped vegetables. 

It wasn't like him to daydream in such a manner. But, in his defense, he had gotten engaged just a few hours ago, so some light (greatly in depth, incredibly detailed) fantasizing about his wedding was, in his opinion, permissible. As he stirred the pot, he thought of all the lavish clothes he would have made for himself and his family, the jewellery he would wear, the set of piercings he would make just for the occasion. As he put food in the oven, the heat made him dream of his first kiss as a newlywed man, and what would happen next- the heat of his body as it melded with another, as their souls became one. As meat sizzled, he thought of the parties they would have, of dancing with everyone in sight. 

As he sighed dreamily, there was a loud knock on the door. 

Startled out of his reverie, he ran to answer the door. He flung it open, prepared to give his guests a happy welcome, but was shocked to see all seven of his sons crowded by the door, silent in that buzzing way that told Fëanáro they had been having quite the conversation before they had arrived.

"Boys!" He exclaimed. "I wasn't expecting you all for another few hours! And where are your spouses? Or my grandchildren?"

His sons remained quiet, until Curufin stepped in from behind Maedhros. There was an unreadable look in his eyes. 

"Hello, father. We hear you have gotten yourself engaged to be married."

Fëanáro's jaw may have dropped. 

He hadn't told a soul! And Weo certainly had not either- he had been so anxious to tell his own daughter (who was also meant to be joining them for dinner), how could he have told anyone else? The only person who knew was Nerdanel! And he doubted she had told them. 

"Who told you?" He cried. "How did you all know?"

Several of his sons opened their mouths to speak, and that was when the smoke alarm went off.

***

Here is how it happened: Once upon a time, there was a young man named Fëanáro. He fell in love with a woman named Nerdanel, and they got married and had seven sons. Then, Fëanáro died. Then, after several thousand years of being dead (roughly ten thousand, to be precise), he was reembodied. Upon reembodiment, he found Nerdanel remarried to a man named Weo. They had one daughter of their own, Apsenindë Nerdanel did not want to give either of her husbands up, for she loved them both, and this seemed to have no bearing on her spirit, so they remained together as a trio. Then, Weo and Fëanáro fell hopelessly in love with each other. They started courting. A minimum of eleven people told Weo that if he broke Fëanáro's heart he would be in serious trouble (suddenly, Weo was eerily aware that most of these people, whom he considered family, were kinslayers). Weo fell even more madly in love with Fëanáro. And this all reached its peak on one very early morning. 

Weo had carefully arranged everything perfectly. Nerdanel knew, of course, and was beyond thrilled, shushing him when he told her that his love for Fëanáro in no way diminished his love for her.

"I know that, silly. How do you think I feel? But, oh, I'm so happy for you!" And she filled him in with all the best things Fëanáro liked, and told him which places had a perfect view of the sunrise (Fëanáro, who had not seen the first rising of the sun and felt as though he had thoroughly missed out, was practically in love with the sunrise). 

So, one early morning, Weo woke Fëanáro up, and asked if he would like to go watch the sunrise. Fëanáro accepted with a kiss and his eyes brightened, although he was still rather drowsy. After getting suitably dressed (it was getting rather nippy out, especially this early in the morning), they walked hand in hand to the tip of the hill where the forges were, and coincidentally had the best view of the sunrise in all of Tirion (a combination Fëanáro was very pleased by- he often set out in the early hours of the morning to work). 

Weo had brought a picnic blanket and set it lightly over the grass; the dew would not ruin his plan! The air around him vaguely smelled like metal, a scent that, early in his life, had repulsed him, but that now he was most fond of (it often announced Fëanáro's arrival home from the forge). 

As the stars began to disappear and the sun appeared over the horizon, Fëanáro leaned against Weo, his head resting on his chest. Gently, Weo wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close. This was Curufinwë Fëanáro, famous for his pride, the power he commanded, his perfectionism. And yet, he had still deemed Weo worthy of being the one to hold him like this. 

"The sunrise is so beautiful," Fëanáro whispered. 

"So are you." 

Fëanáro beamed. "Is that why you took me out here? Just to compliment me? I must say I like this tactic quite a bit. Do tell me more about how wonderful I am." 

Weo rolled his eyes, but could not help a smile forming on his face. 

"You are the most wonderful, my Naro," he said, and leaned down to capture his lips. They kissed for some time- Fëanáro's calloused hand finding the back of Weo's neck, pulling him down further. Fëanáro's lips were soft, tasting vaguely of mint, and although Weo had a plan to enact, he was not particularly inclined to stop kissing him. 

Eventually, though, he noticed it was practically daytime, the sunrise almost over. Many a blacksmith would be making their way over soon, and he wanted his proposal to be special- just the two of them. Regretfully, he pulled away. Fëanáro pouted. 

"I have a surprise for you, beloved," Weo explained. The pout disappeared (a shame, really- it was so cute). But his eyes sparkled with curiosity, which made up for it entirely. 

"A surprise? For me? Pray tell, what is it?"

Weo shook his head. "I can't tell you, you ridiculous person. Stand up, and face me and close your eyes, and do not open them until I tell you to."

Fëanáro complied, and suddenly Weo found he was ridiculously nervous. What if his beloved said no? But he had already set the plan in motion, and once he was certain Fëanáro was not peeking even a little bit, he removed the ring box, cleverly concealed in an inside coat pocket, and knelt on one knee. Gently, he opened the ring box, his palms clammy against the black velvet. The ring inside was gorgeous- the perfect size, and handmade by Fëanáro's favourite smith, his grandson Celebrimbor. 

("I have not made rings in many centuries, husband of my grandmother. But I would love nothing more than to undertake this task. My grandfather has taught me all I know of jewel smithing, and I would be honoured to make something so important for him. What specifically did you have in mind?")

Weo took a shaky breath as he looked down at the ring. It was beautiful, everything he had pictured and more. Two golden bands encrusted with diamonds, slotting into each other perfectly. On the top band, however, rested a stunning emerald of the most beautiful green Weo had ever seen, surrounded by the same diamonds. Weo was sure- even if Fëanáro said no, he would love the ring. 

"You can open your eyes now, my heart." At least his voice was steady. 

Fëanáro's grey, shining eyes opened, and immediately he pressed a hand to his mouth, tears pooling in his eyes. For once, he was quiet as a mouse. So Weo spoke. 

"Few people are lucky enough to say they have found two soulmates, two people they wish to never give up, to love for all eternity. I count myself blessed to be among those people. But even more am I blessed to be able to love you. My Fëanáro, you mean everything to me. My heart is yours, entirely and unconditionally. To me-" his voice cracked, "you are the very sun. Every day is brighter when I am with you, more joyous. I cannot picture my life without you in it, next to me. So, Curufinwë Fëanáro, king of my heart, will you marry me?" 

Fëanáro did not hesitate. "Yes. Yes, Weo, a million times yes."

In the blink of an eye, Weo was no longer on his knees, but on his feet, smashing his lips against Fëanáro's. As they kissed, he tasted the salt of Fëanáro's joyous tears on his lips, and without even looking (for he knew the lines of Fëanáro's body by touch alone, would recognise him with his eyes closed) slipped the ring onto his finger. Truly, Weo was the most blessed man in all of Eru's creation. 

***

Now, as it happened, one Finrod Felagund was headed up this hill, towards the back of the forges, where a very discreet package awaited him. In it was contained two gifts- one for his beloved Amarie, and one for his beloved Edrahil. Finrod was rather in the business of mimicking his dearest aunt Nerdanel. If she could have two partners whom she loved equally, why could he not? He loved Amarie and Edrahil a great deal, he would have you know. 

He picked up the package, forged in secret by his cousin Curufin so as to not give away his intentions to either party (or, Eru forbid, his parents, who would surely begin planning his wedding (weddings? who knew!) immediately) and began to make his way back down the hill. He would have made it all the way down the hill had it not been for something shiny reflecting in his eye. 

Finrod rather loved shiny things. 

Quietly, he made his way back up the hill, in the direction the light seemed to be coming from. Using the buildings of the forges as cover, he sneaked up right until he found the source of the light. Then, he had to restrain himself from aww-ing. 

His uncle, it seemed, had just gotten engaged to be married. 

Finrod knew his uncle only through visits with family - he was not particularly close to him- however what he did know seemed to be quick wit and a fiery temper that overcame all but love for his family. This sweet, soft version of his uncle, crying with joy and smiling brighter than his own Silmarils, was one Finrod had never seen, nor had he ever had particular interest in seeing it. 

Knowing this was a moment not to be intruded on, and that the shiny ring that had drawn him to the scene was certainly not his for the taking or the admiring, he began to quietly descend down the hills and into the market. On his way he met his favourite aunt, Lalwen, on an early morning run. 

"Findarato!" She cried as she approached him. "How are you, dear?" 

"I'm well, auntie Lalwen. How are you?" 

"Never better, hon. That glimmer in your eyes tells me you have just discovered something rather exciting, though."

Finrod contemplated for a second. It was technically his uncle's secret to tell… but everyone was going to find out anyway, and he realised suddenly that he was absolutely desperate to tell someone this very happy secret.

"Well, since you asked…" he said, and leaned up to whisper in his aunt's ear, "Uncle Fëanáro has just gotten engaged."

"Oh!" Lalwen cried. "Oh, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for him!"

"Do you know his favourite flowers, by any chance? I'll put in a word with the florist to keep some on hand- I am sure there will be some sort of event to celebrate very soon." 

Lalwen pondered for a moment. "I know he is rather a fan of red flowers, and red roses for love would be quite nice, I think."

"An excellent idea! I'll tell the florist. And- auntie Lalwen, please keep this a secret. I wouldn't want all of Valinor knowing before my uncle even gets home." 

"Your secret is safe with me." 

Finrod nodded, and they parted ways (a hug was most common, but… Finrod refused to hug a sweaty person, even if it was his favourite aunt). He headed down the market, spying for Inweth's Floral Boutique, a little Sindarin shop that Finrod absolutely adored, and was the most popular in the city for the time. 

The store had just opened as he stepped in, a little bell ringing, and out popped Inweth herself from behind the massive amounts of plants, her hands covered in dirt. 

"Lord Finrod! Welcome! How may I help you?" 

In a split second, he had resolved that it was in fact rather impolite to ask a shop owner for something without buying anything from them, and that Amarie had been telling him yesterday how she would love some bright yellow flowers for her centerpiece on the dinner table. 

"I'm looking for something for Amarie. You wouldn't happen to have any yellow centerpieces, would you? For a dinner table."

Inweth's eyes lit up. "I have just the thing!"

A quarter of an hour later, Inweth had created a splendid centerpiece, and Finrod was at the counter, paying for it. 

"Now, Inweth," he said, and lowered his voice, "I also have a small favour to ask of you."

Inweth, intrigued, leaned in as she handed him his handwritten receipt. 

"Would it be possible to make sure you have many red flowers available in the near future? You mustn't tell anyone, but my uncle Fëanáro has gotten engaged this morning, so I've no doubt there will be flowers being ordered soon. Since red ones are his favourite, and this is the most renowned shop in Tirion-" Inweth blushed at the praise, "I felt it would be only natural to ask you. And roses, as well- for love, you know?"

"Of course, my Lord! I have plenty now, but I will order some more later today."

"Thank you, Inweth. And I can trust you to keep my secret?"

"Yes, not a word will be heard from me."

Finrod nodded, and thanked her again for both the flowers and discretion. Confident his job was done, he began to walk home. But- now he had gotten two things for Amarie, and only one for Edrahil. Oh, Eru above- how could he do such a thing? Worried for his romancing attempts, he scoured the village to find something Edrahil would like, and lost himself in the crowd of the marketplace. 

***

"Now, you didn't hear it from me," said Inweth to the man she was ordering flowers from, "but I need all these red flowers because Crown Prince Fëanáro has gotten engaged."

"My goodness!" He said, as he took her order. "How wonderful!"

When the man reached the first stop on his trip to the magnificent gardens the florists ordered from, some twenty minutes out of Tirion, he spoke with his friends there. There were four of them total. 

"Now, you didn't hear it from me, but Prince Fëanáro down in Tirion is engaged to be married," he told them all, and immediately began talking about how large the parties would be- surely they would get at least a week away from their travels! When their time together was over, they each went on their separate ways with happy thoughts of drinks and dancing in their minds. 

The first man went to the flower gardens and explained the need for so many red flowers. The second made it to the halfway point between Valimar, Alqualonde and Tirion and told half the town of the engagement. The third was headed south of Alqualonde, and news had already reached the city thanks to the second man's efforts by the time he got there, and the fourth was headed home to outer Tirion, where he spread the gossip like wildfire to the shopkeepers. 

Now, a young woman who had encountered the second man was on her way to Valimar, and when she reached the golden city she did not hesitate to spread the word. The news made itself all the way up the steps to Taniquetil, gossip reaching the guards who were posted on the steps, until it made it all the way to High King Ingwë himself. 

"Fëanáro engaged! How wonderful! I ought to write him a letter of congratulations. His first wedding was ever so lively, I cannot wait to see what the second will hold," Ingwë said to himself, as Ingwion bounced with joy at the news of his best friend's second betrothal.

"What is this?" Manwë said, his voice airy and soft, as he floated next to Ingwë. 

"The son of my dear friend Finwë, may he be at peace, Fëanáro, has gotten engaged."

"Oh! What exciting news! Do include my congratulations when you write to him, Ingwë."

"I certainly shall."

"I will head to Tirion straightaway," said Ingwion, and bade his father and the King of the Valar farewell.

Ingwë sat at his desk and began to write.

Meanwhile, word spread quickly among the Valar. They had formed what they called a group-chat, where they could discuss matters amongst themselves without needing to meet up in person. 

This was how, roughly six hours after Weo had proposed, Orome returned from a hunt and found Celegorm playing with Huan on the floor. 

"I hear your father has gotten engaged," Orome said, wrongly assuming Celegorm was aware, for surely Fëanáro would have told his sons first. "Should I bring something to dinner tonight, a gift to congratulate them?"

"No, I don't think you have to-'' Celegorm said, before Orome's words registered. He sat bolt upright. "Wait, what?"

***

In that same hour, Curufin had taken his usual space in the forge, unknowing of his father's early morning visit to the hilltop. He worked tirelessly, and when he finally took a break, tossing his head back to gulp down some water from his jug, he was surprised to find himself ambushed by his fellow smiths. 

"Some of us were thinking we should make a gift for your father," one said. 

"Why?" asked Curufin.

"Well, he's our friend, and has taught many of us to better our smithing skills, and we're all just so happy for him now that he's engaged!"

"That's very good of you, I'm sure he'd like- wait. He's engaged?"

***

"Makalaurë, Makalaurë!" They cried, and Maglor began to run. He had forgotten how intense some of his fans could be, and his sudden reappearance as a musician had made him all the more popular. He twisted and turned through streets he knew like the back of his hand, and when he could no longer hear their cries, he darted into the first shop he saw. 

"Hello, Makalaurë," said the shopkeeper, and he could have cried with relief when he recognised Celebrian's voice. "Running from your fans again?"

"Always," he replied. "The shop looks wonderful, Ellie."

It truly did, gorgeous green house plants all around, each one in a beautifully made and painted pot that he knew his daughter in law had made herself. 

"Thank you!"

"Say, are you coming to dinner at my father's tonight?"

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it! I'm so happy for him, Weo is such a lovely man. Have you thought of what songs you'll play at the wedding? Or the engagement party? I'm sure they wouldn't want any other musician."

"Oh, not yet, but I'll think of something- why, do you suspect they'll be engaged soon?"

Celebrian's jaw dropped. "You mean you haven't heard?"

Maglor was beginning to think he had missed something. "Heard what, Ellie?"

"Why, practically all of Valinor knows by now! How could you have missed it?"

"Missed what, exactly?"

"Weo proposed to your father this morning, and he said yes!"

"What?"

***

"Moryo!" cried Ilvane, walking into the garden with her arms full of plants. Quickly, he set down the spices he had been collecting and, though she doubtless could carry them herself (it always amazed him how strong dancers were), picked a few out of her arms and set them down in the spots she had marked. 

"How is the delivery man?" He asked as she checked the plants for any problems. 

"He is well, just fine- when were you going to tell me your father got engaged? I would have gone down to the market to get a gift to congratulate him, but now I'm afraid all of Valinor knows and the good gifts will be gone by the time I get there!"

"Beloved, you needn't get him anything, father adores you enough already- hang on. Did you say he got engaged?"

***

Maedhros was working. Again. The paperwork demanded of him as a politician in Tirion these days was ridiculous. Honestly, who needed all of this information? It certainly wasn't the High King! Once, Uncle Arafinwë had literally looked over to his desk, seen the paperwork, made a slight noise of protest and walked away. He had not returned for a week. 

Speaking of Uncle Arafinwë, Maedhros thought he had heard a delighted whoop coming from his office. As he got up to go investigate, a messenger left the office, a bright smile on their face. 

"Everything alright, Uncle?" He said, knocking.

"Oh, wonderful!" Arafinwë cried, "never better! Say, Nelyo, why are you still here? Don't tell me you're working- go home! Go celebrate with your father! Go on, shoo!"

Maedhros blinked, confused.

"What am I celebrating, exactly?"

Arafinwë shook his head, unamused. "Don't joke with me, boy- I know you didn't always like Weo, but you've put that aside! Your father just got engaged to him! A union that will last forever, isn't that worth celebrating?"

Maedhros' eyes went wide. His father, engaged? Since when? How had his uncle known?

"Yes, of course, Uncle. I'll be going now."

Arafinwë clapped him on the back, and off Maedhros headed to his parents' house.

***

The twins had simply heard it through the grapevine. They had overheard a friend of a friend of a friend chatting about their father's engagement, and after exchanging surprised looks, began to make their way to their father's house to see if it was true or just mindless gossip. 

On their way to Fëanáro's house, they stumbled across Curufin, who had apparently heard the same thing. Then, they met up with Caranthir, then Celegorm, then Maglor who begged for ideas of what he should play, then Maedhros, who demanded to know if their father really was engaged.

One thing was certain- if it was a rumour, it was one that had spread very quickly. Together, they reached their father's house, bitching.

"Our own father can't tell us his own news."

"At least you got to hear it from family! My news was practically from a stranger!"

"At least you didn't have to hear it from one of the fucking Valar-" 

The door swung open, and there stood their father. 

"Boys!" Fëanáro cried. "I wasn't expecting you all for another few hours! And where are your spouses? Or my grandchildren?" 

And, sure as Sulimo, beside his wedding ring rested an absolutely beautiful engagement ring. 

Curufin took a step forward, and they let him. "Hello, father," he said. "We hear you have gotten yourself engaged to be married."

"Who told you? How did you all know?" Their father seemed aghast at the news that they were all aware. 

Amrod and Amras opened their mouths to reply, but a very loud beeping sound cut them off. 

"Fuck," said their father. "Well, come in and tell me while I get this sorted out."

***

Curufin, taller than his father, was put in charge of fixing the smoke alarm while Fëanáro poked and prodded the food. Luckily, only the top bit of the twice baked potatoes were burnt- he scraped it off easily and added some more of the topping.

As it was done, each son recounted how he had heard. 

"I heard through Orome, the bastard."

"I heard through some of the smiths at the forge."

"I heard through Celebrian."

"She's coming tonight, isn't she?" asked Fëanáro.

"Yes," Maglor replied, and Fëanáro smiled satisfactorily. 

"I heard through my wife, who heard through the deliveryman who brought her plants and seeds and things."

"I wonder if he heard through Celebrian, then?"

"Who knows!"

"I heard from Uncle Arafinwë."

"And we kind of just overheard it," said the twins in unison. 

Fëanáro sighed. 

"I suppose all of Tirion knows, now. I wanted to tell you boys personally, tonight. But, to confirm any last doubts," he waved the bejewelled hand in the air, "I am engaged to Weo. He proposed this morning, it was very sweet, I said yes and I am very happy."

He seemed rather sad, at not being able to tell his sons his good, exciting news himself. 

"Well," said Maglor, "no matter how we found out, we are all exceedingly happy for you, Atto."

A resounding agreement went up around the table, and Fëanáro smiled. 

"Thank you, my darlings. I trust you will all be in attendance at the wedding?"

"Of course," said Curufin without a moment's hesitation. "We wouldn't dream of missing it." 

"Besides," said Maedhros, "I have a feeling if we didn't come, someone would rise from the dead to make us." 

They all laughed, and just then Weo walked in with Apsenindë, who congratulated Fëanáro and took her own seat at the table, while her father greeted Fëanáro with a kiss. Two sons of Feanor whistled and laughter went up as Fëanáro swatted at them with his hand, his lips still locked with Weo's. When they broke apart, the sons of Feanor stood and went to shake Weo's hand, one by one, congratulating him and making barely disguised threats (an improvement, as far as Weo was concerned; this was much better than undisguised and venomous threats). As they all stood, Apseninde brought out champagne and glasses, handing the bottle to her mother, Nerdanel, who had just walked into the scene. She popped it open, foam falling everywhere, and poured the glasses for everyone, before sending Apseninde to fetch another bottle. 

As Apseninde returned, someone knocked at the door, and Maedhros opened it to find all his relatives waiting outdoors. They all filled in, each one merry, shouting their congratulations. The children made merry, forming a circle and dancing while holding hands, the adults found themselves glasses of champagne or wine, each one congratulating Fëanáro and Weo with bright eyes. 

Celebrimbor made his way over to his grandfather and step-grandfather, and immediately took Fëanáro’s hand, examining the ring.

“Oh, I’m so glad it fits!” He said, and blushed. “You do like it, don’t you, grandfather? I’m more than happy to make you another one if you don’t, though, it’s really no trouble, only Weo and I thought you might like this design, and—”

“Why, Tyelpë,” interrupted Fëanáro, his eyes suddenly filled with an unbearable softness. “Did you make this gorgeous, gorgeous ring for me?” 

Somehow, Celebrimbor’s blush deepened. 

“Of course, grandfather, it was the least I could do.” 

He said that, but Fëanáro knew better— the last ring his dear grandson had made had been the third Ring of Power. That Celebrimbor had made his engagement ring… well, it meant the world. 

Fëanáro took Celebrimbor’s face in his hands and kissed his cheek. 

“Thank you so very much, dear. I love it,” he said quietly. Then, louder: “What a magnificent grandson I have. So strong and talented!”

“Grandfather!” Celebrimbor protested.

“Now, now, Fëanáro, leave the poor boy alone,” teased Ñolofinwë. 

"Ñolo, can you blame me? He’s absolutely wonderful! The eldest grandchild I dreamed of having!” Fëanáro insisted, but let Celebrimbor go. “How are you, Ñolo? And Arvo, Lalwen, Findis! And all your families! Eru above, can this house even fit so many people?" Fëanáro cried, though it was clear to tell he was more than glad to receive everybody. From his great-grandchildren to his siblings-in-law and great great nephews and nieces, truly he did not think he had ever seen so much of his family in his house at once. 

"As long as it can fit one more, I think we'll be okay!" shouted Ingwion, making his way towards his very best friend in the world. Fëanáro laughed, tossing his head back. 

"Has news truly reached you all the way in Valimar! Eru, all of Valinor must know by now!"

They embraced, a tight hug, and Ingwion shouted his congratulations over the music that Maglor, at some point, had started playing. 

Truly, Fëanáro thought, all his family and loved ones in one house, together to celebrate his engagement to the man he loved- perhaps that rumour had done some good!

***

In secret, sipping on his champagne, Finrod smiled. His family were all gathered, his two great loves accepted his affections, and he was having a blast. He was truly the Gossip King of the Noldor.

**Author's Note:**

> big shoutout to my dear friend ravenditefairylights for beta reading this!!


End file.
